Without You
by sekai no yakusoku
Summary: ...it was hard to know what was real and what wasn't...but war or no war, I eventually knew the only thing that mattered: I could not be without you. [robxrae]
1. Prologue

So I couldn't help it. It's been dragging its feet through my brain and I wanted to at least start it though I imagine my main focus will still be on Hush and Glass however, I do have a fondness for this idea. I thought, hm, the titans are soldiers in a sense. What if they were 'real' soldiers in a war? This is that story, for better or for worse and it's set in the future so we've got some very absurdist weaponry going on here and so on...but that's later.

Soldiers have to be trained first after all.

And anyone who knows my writing at all will know what direction this is headed in romantically—wherever romance is, though it will be very gradual. Friendship first this time, very much so...and trust...and so on.

Let me know what you think please. I think I've never really seen another story like this in TT so, that might be interesting. This is short, just to wet the appetite and let me know how everyone reacts.

Absolutely AU, hope that sits alright with most of you.

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**Without You**

_Prologue: In which you intrigue me_

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The first time we met it was hard to tell if she hated me or not.

"We don't have any other options," she'd said to me, gesturing about the room with her free hand—fencing gear under the crook of her other arm. I think I made a sort of scoffing noise but she either missed it or ignored it as she stepped back to the edge of the circle.

"This won't take long," I muttered more to myself than to her but the way her brow knit before she settled her helmet over her face told me she'd heard it regardless. I admit her form was nearly perfect and as each of us vied for dominance in the white-chalked circle, our parries and thrusts became much more elaborate. Normally only used for show—or more truthfully to prolong the often brief spars—I found myself boxed into my first defensive corner ever...and my blood was rising.

"It's been about twenty minutes. How much _longer_ do you think?" she inquired with a bite that confirmed my previous suspicion that she'd heard my own comment. I grunted a non-verbal response as she barely avoided a reckless attack on my part.

That one could have really hurt her and I knew she was aware of it.

I didn't care.

If she knew she knew to be on guard. That was as much as anyone here could ask for.

"No answer?" she nearly taunted, voice edgy as she managed to land a hit to my right side. Just as quickly, I returned the favor. Match for match, if one of us struck the other gave fair reply to a point when it seemed we were entirely incapable of breaching an everlasting standstill—well, everlasting until one of us tired out.

Confidently I told myself this was the kind of challenge I'd been waiting for and if it was from some over presumptuous new pup then fine, so be it. She'd get hers. Of course I wasn't hardly much older—a year or two maybe? But maybe it was in that year or two that she gained the extra respect or grudging admiration. She was young to be here, a military academy...and a girl at that.

Unheard of.

But being unheard of didn't make you special, I thought as I felt the edges of fabric at the corners of my eyes bunch a bit at the side but I wasn't worried. I knew it would hold. It always had.

They had made sure it would before they...gave it to me.

And suddenly I was angry that she would be giving me such a hard time. Maybe the heroes in old stories went seeking glorious challenges but that was not what I was there for. I was there to excel and I brooded a little spitefully as I pushed on, nearly landing another thrust, but not quite.

She was fast.

"How long?" she asked again, landing a hit. It was like she wanted to show me she'd earned an answer this time.

Fine.

"As long as it takes," I shot back, eyes burning behind the mask as I responded with an unorthodox combination of patterns three and twelve, winning myself another strike to even the score yet again.

"I don't lose," her voice dropped as our foils clashed, bringing us closer than we'd been so far and I could feel the heat radiating off of her in thick waves—just like she could probably feel mine.

"Neither do I," I said plainly and used the brace to propel her backward.

Her foot stumbled near the edge of the circle...but did not step over it and I thought I heard her laugh shortly, dryly...like someone who knew more than they let on.

It unsettled me and without waiting for her to come at me again I made a tactless dive with the metal point—a tactless dive that she tactfully evaded with a sidestep too elegant to be a soldier's motion.

Not wanting to focus on my past, I focused on pretending I knew hers.

She was rich probably, had a loving family with an overprotective father figure and a doting mother who had intensely discouraged her daughter's decision to go into a military academy with the impending war and Factions rising up all over the damned planet. She had a happy life like most of the deluded children that came running in the doors of this place, the capes of colonels blinding them to the reality of what it was to fight in a war.

To be at war.

In a sense even I didn't know what that was though...not yet...but that was what I'd come there for...come to the academy for.

She is well off, I went back to imagining the back-story for this increasingly taxing girl and even as I fabricated every inch of my opponent's history, I knew not a bit of it was true and felt worse for it, irritated.

No, not one bit of it was true at all.

The fact was probably that she was an orphan, nothing more or less tragic than that...a war orphan.

She was far too thin to be one of the deluded ones, I thought as incidentally our wrists collided in a parry gone wrong.

I could feel her wrist bone.

A war orphan, I thought again but I didn't have the pity I probably should have.

There were too many to pity.

That was everyone else in this training base. Those who dreamt of heroic deeds and prestigious recognition stood or barracked with those who had no dreams left and it only seemed fitting that it was the will to fight—and indeed in some, the desire to fight—drew them all together.

Not us, I remembered dutifully as I blocked a particularly strong attack, raising my eyes to where I imagined hers were behind that netted helmet. I think she felt my gaze but that didn't stop us from our rapid-fire exchange.

Executing, repelling, blocking, defending and so on, it continued until the whistle of our instructor pierced our heated little war. A part of my mind nudged at the irony and the black humor in my metaphor but I pushed it aside as I removed my own face guard, beads of sweat rolling down my skin. My opponent had a similarly flushed look about her, some shorter parts of her hair being plastered to the side of her jaw and forehead. The class was being dismissed but her gaze held me there and I shifted the helmet from one hand to the other.

"What's your name?" she walked up to me, not a hint of what was to come there yet...just another peer who happened to be good with a foil. That was all she was.

"Robin," I told her like I'd told everyone else when I'd gotten there three years before.

"Well, well...two of a kind," she laughed to herself and then left me there, twirling the foil in my hand idly, puzzling over her words and the room still smelling of its usual sweat and sauna-like residue...and something else, something a little like vanilla.

Some of it was made clear when, the next day, I found out her name.

Raven. Two of a kind indeed.

It was only on the day that entry scores were posted—the end of that week—that I realized she hadn't once commented on the mask that covered my eyes hiding the blue behind them and burying everything else in my past with it, hadn't asked why or what for...hadn't made fun or the like.

In fact, she hadn't even given it a glance.

And intrigued against my will, I could not sleep that night.

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Review and let me know what you thought so far please! I know it's different, but maybe it doesn't totally suck? Sigh. I probably should've had castle read it first and tell me.

-Rei


	2. Chapter 1

Mmm...didn't plan to update this for a while but it came to me today during my 'study of the history and culture of war' class so...yep. Chapter 1.

Okie, to answer a few questions:

1: This is definitely AU.

2: The war is set in the future, a projected year of new time S.S. 293. You will find out what S.S means in another chapter, possibly the next one though I won't get ahead of myself and promise anything. Suffice to say, people are living on earth and in space now, science has found a way—we knew it was gonna happen someday, right?

3: The war is convoluted as all wars seem to be for one reason or another but this one will be somewhat melodramatic probably, since all my stories seem to go off that deep end. It might not be a bad thing though, just not very realistic. I've never been in a war after all.

4: Chapters will probably be shorter, but then again some might be my usual length—longer—so to be safe, I'd say they will definitely vary, but I'll try to keep them long enough to be worth the read. You know?

5: More characters will show up from the original cast, my favorite villain included, but I don't want to say anything else for fear of giving away too much. I probably did that already anyway. Oy.

Okay that done, wow: thank you all so much for the reviews. They really surprised me and made my day whenever I got to read a new one so thank you. I can't seem to get anywhere in my major—my writing sucks there, writing for plays and screenplays...you know the sob story, no one likes my work, in fact they hate it, blah, blah, blah...you know, that sort of thing.

So it's nice to have this as an outlet and know that some people somewhere out there like some of what I do and by letting me know that, you encourage me to keep on writing. So super thank you.

This chapter dedicated to: castle in the air, this chapter's yours hon...thanks for your everything

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**Without You**

_Chapter 1: In which you follow me_

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It was the second week and the last free seven days the lot of us would see for most of the year—all of it, if the war came on sooner. Lunch on Tuesday was lunch on Tuesday and I sat as far from anyone else as possible. But this was normal and things might have continued as expected had _she_ not decided to take lunch at the same time. 

I was aware of everyone else watching her even as I was of myself doing the same.

According to the posted scores, she'd made it into the advanced classes.

I'm not sure how.

What kind of background could she possibly have to know all the things she must have demonstrated proficiency in?

What kind of person did you have to be?

My mind shook with cold laughter. What kind of person? Someone like you, it said to me and my jaw clenched. _Whatever, that tells me nothing about her_, I said to it and it quieted as it was replaced by the solid footsteps of the peer of my thoughts.

Whispers came on the dull heeled boots as she neared. Didn't she know? Hadn't she heard? I wasn't just another kid here from the pits of the city or the hills of a destroyed countryside. I wasn't just someone else. I was the military's prodigy, their favorite.

Slade's favorite.

And I had secrets, lots of them.

Hadn't she heard?

"Everyone else is too loud," she said to me as she sat across the otherwise empty table, pulled out one of the battle strategy texts assigned to us and promptly bit into an apple as she scanned page after page.

"There isn't a rule that says you _have_ to eat in the canteen," I pointed out coldly.

I think she was ignoring me by the way she kept on biting into that damn apple, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe I hadn't spoken loud enough and to be fair, it was very noisy in the cafeteria.

"You could easily take your meal elsewhere without repercussions," I tried again and this time I was sure of it. She was ignoring me. My eyes narrowed behind the mask that covered them so solicitously and I was about to speak again but she chose that moment to glance up from her reading and lock me into a stare that demanded silence. Her eyes were strange, almost violet.

I'd heard of violet eyes before.

But I couldn't remember where from.

I dismissed it as trivial facts, fool that I was.

"I heard you the first time," was what she said as she placed the core of the apple on a napkin to her right.

"Your lack of reaction suggested otherwise," I replied, nonplussed.

"I'm not asking you to be sociable, just to share a table," she paused and then added, "Robin."

"You are new here. You probably do not know," I began.

"Know that you're considered the invaluable lapdog to the commander or that you're the top student here who likes to keep a low profile that has a habit of only getting higher regardless of your efforts? Or something else maybe?" she inquired, unimpressed, eyes boring into me like two well-trained missiles.

And for the first time in a long time I felt trapped.

"Know that I covet my space," I retorted, angry at being caught off guard by her awareness and angrier at her candor.

She did not know me.

And I certainly did not want to know her.

So why couldn't she just—

"Of course," she said, eyes never losing that disconcertingly pensive depth as she wrapped the apple core in its napkin and shut her battle manual before swinging her legs over the table's bench to stand and leave. There was no indication of mockery in her tone but I felt there was something more there all the same. That hunch served nearly useless as I had no idea what that 'something more' might have been and it occurred to me as I watched her leave through my peripheral vision that one of the things that bothered me about her was that she was doing what I'd given up hope on anyone doing for a long time now.

She was treating me like any other person.

And I frowned as I realized that was the second time she'd thrown me off in scarce more than two weeks. Some part of me mocked that I was losing my edge and I quickly buried the very idea beneath an unhealthy amount of necessary arrogance.

_You can't afford to be surprised anymore_, I said to myself. _You're not just anyone. Not anymore. _

Of course like I said it'd been a long time since I'd last felt the desire to be able to blend in so it didn't take more than a few sentences of self-persuasion these days. Now the mask wasn't a sore thumb to be pointed out but a beacon of pride for me. If they thought I was the so-called prodigy, then fine. I would be that prodigy, wear the mask that kept the real me from ever even existing.

I'd planned on it anyway before coming here, if not in the same way.

Being the best was not a new notion in my own mind at the very least and the concept of 'the perfect soldier' was not so impossibly raised on a pedestal as to be unreachable.

And I'd been reaching for three years, four at the end of this term, and I could taste the proximity of my goal being attained like I could taste the metallic blood in my mouth whenever a test-mission got particularly sketchy or a combat simulation went awry.

It was rather _like_ blood actually: practically a life force unto itself, coursing through me, consuming and providing for me, driving me, sustaining me...and the shadow in my mind whispered of the staining it would eventually do as well.

But I couldn't think about that...not yet. And for now, all this—the training, the grayness of morals, the inevitable death—was nothing more than a means to an end.

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"You're overstepping," she criticized.

God must have had it in for me.

We'd gotten matched up again...somehow.

"You're mistaken," I said and from the corner of my eye I could see the fire that ran in her cheeks at my reply.

"You can't _ever_ admit you're wrong," she observed, a slight pout to her lip that she'd have to get rid of someday soon if she wanted to be a soldier.

"It's hardly a matter of right or wrong," I said as we moved a little closer to our approximate goal line. It was a strange exercise where one person and a partner attempted to 'move as one' according to our given instructor. The idea was to give the illusion of one since one was easier to hide, equal step for step and any other bodily movement. "We're supposed to try and get there first. With the way you're moving we'll be last in next year's recruit." I felt her stiffen, back against mine as we continued to move.

"The death of a soldier is a failure to calculate the odds. The way you're moving we'll be 'dead' before we even get in sight of it," she countered but I didn't lessen my step. I'd been there longer, done this before, knew what I was doing.

Her next step was deliberately slow.

"Look," I stopped entirely, knowing it was my only option. Any abrupt movement like turning to face her would give away our position and we'd lose the simulated exercise to some other team. That was unacceptable. So I simply stood, back-to-back with her, feeling her breathing rhythm through my vertebrae. Well versed so far in all tactics and honed in on all activity and the small nuances of working with another, she too had stopped at exactly the same time. "Just follow my lead." It was nothing short of an order.

And for some reason she complied.

I probably should've seen it then, noticed something, something about her willingness to follow, the purpose with which she seemed to have turned on a dime.

I should've seen it.

But I didn't.

All I had was the distinct impression of being in a very small room with a person who refused to say anything or even indicate the other person's existence except for pure loathing of the company.

It suited me though at the time.

Here was the begrudging cooperation I was accustomed to and had long ago realized I was suited to as well.

Well, I thought so at least.

We made it to the appointed destination first, were commended by our instructor...and so on.

"Well done Wayne, Roth," he said, nodding to each of us respectively before shoving us off to the next simulated trial. It was the fourth week since real classes had begun and this was our first set of tests, made—as far as I could gather—to weed out those who didn't really want to be there and more importantly, the people who couldn't stomach being there, essentially the weak ones. Most of them would stay though, I knew. They would stay until it was too late to get out. Walking to the next assigned area I let my masked eyes travel over my 'partner' in arms. She didn't act like a weak one. Probably she had a reason to be there but her outward demeanor gave nothing away.

I guess that was something we had in common, like it or not.

The clack of our boots echoed in the long halls and I was reminded of medical rooms—stark, plain, empty—and being so reminded, I flashed on memories best left buried. But before I could get too lost in my own reverie we'd reached the room and she was pushing me through unceremoniously, letting the door slide shut with a click behind us.

A switch flipped and the lights went up.

I arched a brow even as I bent at the waist. He'd always had a thing for the dramatic—or "the elegant," as he called it.

"Your Excellency," we both bowed immediately. Here was Slade, leader of us all in this strange pre-war era, those of us who were on this side in any case. He was a handsome man, lithe but muscular, maybe seven or nine years older than us with ash-blond hair that cut itself in clean, uneven lines, falling against his tan skin. More attractive probably was his air, the kind that would not be denied respect, the kind that required full attention and in most cases, allegiance. His one visible eye, seemingly the color of off-blue ice scrutinized us deliberately.

Credit to us both, neither of us cracked even the slightest under the intensity.

It was the patch-covered eye that weighed on my mind.

"Cadets Robin Wayne and Raven Roth," he greeted formally. "At ease, you need not bow in the privacy of me and my men," he said and his voice was deceptively smooth, like wine. It could poison if it was too potent or too much but it could be delicious, tempting, intoxicating. I'd learned not long after first meeting 'his Excellency' not to trust even him too heartily. Trust was a foolish thing anyway these days. A sideways glance told me nothing about Cadet Roth's sense of virtue or truth, nothing about her perspective on the commander before us in his fine black and rich royal blue.

"Sir, I'd thought we were to meet the other students in this facility to initiate the next trial," I ventured.

"You are the only two students who made it across," he said, all candor and a bit of smugness for whatever reason.

"Sir?" my voice intoned more than his title. He began to walk, almost pace, but not quite. His steps were margins too deliberate to make the aimless amble of pacing. Vaguely I noted the arrogant way his rich cape wrapped itself over his left shoulder, the heavy folds accentuated by the shadows of the room.

"I wanted to meet the two highest scoring students in the history of the academy personally. You have both performed rather...impressively I must say," he said and I immediately had the ire rise in me as I thought: you 'must' do nothing; you are master here. But I said nothing of the like. I knew what he meant.

I wasn't certain, however, that _she_ did. But it wasn't like I could just stop and ask her then and there.

Not that I wanted to.

"Then it is our privilege," I said as decorum dictated, careful to avoid a mocking tone at all costs. Faintly I heard Raven shift her feet; the boots were too heavy to be soundless and I could not begin to understand her sudden discomfort. This was praise, not execution, so why the unease?

Raven didn't seem the type to even 'do' unease, part of me thought wryly.

All the same, I tried to discern an answer but I should have known better by then.

My unrelenting stare in her direction gave me no clarity on her position and that only furthered my curiosity.

"Cadet Roth, is it?" Slade inquired, his voice dangerously calm, at which Raven seemed to drag her gaze from the floor to meet his, unfaltering, if reluctant.

"Yes, sir," she said, the quietness of her amplified by the surrounding silence of the room as Slade leaned in near her, uncomfortably close from what I could tell.

Hell, _I_ was uncomfortable watching her be uncomfortable.

But that was one of the things Slade did best.

Make people uncomfortable.

With him, with each other, and most of all, with themselves.

And he did it well.

"Very nice work, cadet," he proffered a cold smile she did not return but she saluted and stood clean at attention as one might expect, gratitude in her words if not on her face.

He dismissed us shortly thereafter and we parted ways without a word, her to her dorm wing, and I to mine.

Males and females were separated for obvious reasons in living domiciles at the academy training base and I'd never seen that wing, though I accepted that it existed as just another part of reality. This was in spite of the fact that I'd never had a girl in any of my classes in years before. They didn't tend to get into the Honors curriculum, ending up always as medics and so on rather than frontline soldiers.

Except for Raven of course.

Unlocking my door, the girl filled my head unnecessarily and at the forefront of my intrigue with her was her obvious unsettlement in the presence of Slade minutes before. It wasn't the discomfort _he_ had caused, which was expected, but rather the discomfort I'd sensed all along, and it was only as I stepped out of the shower, fire-hot steam fogging up the mirror, that I realized it was the same type of discomfort a person got when they were trying to hide something.

_Raven_ was trying to hide something.

But what?

I hadn't the faintest.

What I did have, I realized, was yet another reason to continue disliking her as much as she seemed to dislike me, because when I climbed into bed a couple hours later sleep would not come to me.

Nope.

No sleep.

Only _her _face.

And a lot of questions.

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Review please! And thanks again for stopping in to read. 

-Rei


	3. Chapter 2

Everyone should check out The Writer you Fools' challenge in my forum. It's a good one, I swear. For every pairing, every whatever. You might find it most um…challenging. Heh.

Dedicated to: honestly, anyone who's stuck around long enough to see this chapter come to actually exist! Thank you so much and your reviews definitely helped me be motivated to finally get this out…goodness. I hope not a long wait like last time.

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**Without You**

_Chapter 2: In which you heal me...sort of_

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I hate to lose. 

No, I mean it. I really hate to lose. Loathe might be a better word.

Curse myself for only being able to stand there as she watched me with those calculated irises of hers, like glass marbles the color of night. Granted, it was by such a marginal amount, the instructors might not even take it into account, as I was still reputably his Excellency's favorite—something I had yet to understand completely. However marginal it might have been was greatly accentuated by the fact that I have always clung wildly to the things I thought I could always do best, no matter what.

Fighting was one of them.

It was the rush that came on the heels of the fear, the slice of a blade that grazed my outer layer to remind me it could be slicing through my skin in the next instant. It came from the way my pulse turned into a war drum's beat when I scrimmaged in the machines—the base's staff called them iron men.

That was a suitable enough name. They vaguely resembled men as each machine had a head, four limbs and a central body, but made of all that metal and made to be a war weapon at that, it was no wonder 'iron men' came off as a little odd at first. It was as if it were reduced to a game (your iron men versus my lava army or the like) but after a couple practice rounds it was back to being a strange reality of the oncoming war. Maybe after just one practice round...if you were smart.

Most people on base didn't have any qualms disclosing their feelings and thoughts on the war, on their positions, on why they fought. But I never took part—not that they would have wanted me to. I was a man apart, evidently, but that suited me fine. I didn't like crowds. But then she came along and my loner sensibilities went scarce.

"Need a hand?" she asked, not a trace of the smugness I could rarely keep from having in my own voice. I admit I'd gotten a little cocky over the years...a little more than a little.

"No," I said and pulled myself out of the cockpit with much difficulty, trying not to show just how much. In the last round, we'd collided in the machines and as they were gigantic suits—tall as buildings, some of them—it took a lot of power to both wield and endure the use. The collision had caused me to momentarily lose my grip, Raven being on the upper-hand, and I'd slipped, causing my shoulder to be painfully jarred against a hard edge of the cockpit's interior. Now as I pulled myself out, it sent a sharp throb and I must have winced...or something else.

"You're hurt." I was about to retort that no, I wasn't but something caught my attention there. Her tone...had it just sounded remotely worried...? For as long as I'd known her...not much over a month, but still...she'd never shone any emotion.

It was like emotion might kill her...not a flicker of a smile. I couldn't even imagine what a smile would look like on that unreadable face of hers.

Not that I wanted to...

"Come on," her voice broke into my internal monologue and I followed her wordlessly, still somewhat dumbstruck by her openness. Had I passed a test without knowing it? Was this a trick? Who did she think she was ordering me to 'follow' her?

My mind, if it could, would have proceeded to beat itself on the nearest hard surface.

Luckily my skull kept it from doing so.

"In here," she gestured and I found myself in a corridor I'd never been in before.

"Where are we?" I asked, feeling out of place.

"The women's quarters," she said and the insurmountable flat tone was back, cool and unfeeling as ever—not mean, but not quite normal. Most people couldn't help but show even an inch's worth of usual emotion. Raven was in a league all her own in that case. This 'worry' which I was sincerely beginning to think I'd made up in my head at this point, was the first sign of anything human in her since that fencing match. Even I had moments when the shield broke down and anger slipped through, or, more often, irritation it seemed.

"I shouldn't be here then," I said and she rolled her eyes at me. Well, I suppose if sarcasm was an 'emotion' she'd be full of it...just one emotion, but well...

"We have our own medical room since females like female assists when they get injured. It's an odd luxury but we might as well use it if we've got it. Yours is the generic med room and that will be packed with the rest of today's injuries," she explained as she walked away.

I stared. Clearly she meant for me to follow.

'...the rest of today's injuries'?

I scowled. It didn't hurt. I tested my shoulder, trying to roll it. A sharp flare of burning pain whipped through it and I hissed, hoping Raven had not heard me, so far ahead as she must be. Okay, maybe it did hurt...a little.

"Coming?" she called from down the hall. "That looked painful," she added and I felt like cursing again as I all but stumped down the corridor towards her and into a side room.

"This is all yours? How many women are there here?" I asked carelessly. Raven was getting something out of a cupboard.

"Not many," she said, answering me and not answering me...as usual. "Sit," she gestured to a chair she'd moved near the window. There was none of the florescent light that dominated most of the interior of the campus, but as she opened the Venetians with a flick of her wrist, natural sun streamed through. I sat. The sun felt nice...soothing even. I half suspected if I sat there long enough the sun would heal the injury for me. "Take off your shirt."

What?

"What?" I tried not to choke on my question.

"I need to check that shoulder and then, accordingly, wrap it so you don't do anything else to it," she said in such a tired fashion that most certainly translated into being irritated...I thought.

"You're not a medical assistant," I tried. "Are you?" I should be sure of the things I say.

"I have the training," she said evasively and then again, "Take off your shirt."

"I don't believe this," I muttered half to myself, half to her, but did so, holding my breath with the ache and sharp flares in my shoulder going crazy.

"Now stay still," she said and moved behind me.

I don't know if you've ever had a person you weren't certain hated your every bone just for being set right, or might actually like you.

But it's not comfortable.

Tension was inevitable.

"Relax," she said and I felt her fingers press against my skin. Her touch was strangely cool, not cold, but cool—just like her manner. I half expected her to just snap my whole shoulder off then and there but instead she began methodical circles, an odd sort of therapeutic massage that had my shoulder feeling a great deal better in just moments. And...something else. I felt like I actually was beginning to relax. I felt like...like this was nice.

"Ow! Geez!" It was then that she'd decided to test the movement of my shoulder and the throbbing returned tenfold. So much for relaxation. I all but glared at her as I turned my face to nearly come nose to nose with her. She'd been, I guessed, leaning down to examine the way the movement showed through my shoulder in the back.

This was, if anything, awkward.

"The rest will be very quick," she said simply, shedding the awkwardness like a cloak and had me bandaged in a couple deft minutes. I moved awkwardly but the pain was greatly lessened on a whole and that meant one thing.

"Thank you," I said to her back as she put the supplied back in the respective places. She paused, hand on the cupboard as she closed it shut.

"You're welcome boy wonder," she said and I thought I sensed a hint of a smile in her tone, but I couldn't' say because she had her back to me still, as if that was the only thing between her, me, and the truth she didn't want to tell just yet. Still...maybe she was smiling. She'd been kind enough to help me, to patch me up...and we'd been civil mostly. Maybe we were getting somewhere and I could stop falling asleep with her face in my dreams.

Maybe, I thought, feeling estranged by the very idea, I was making...a friend?

Friend was too much.

An ally?

Maybe, I thought with my own half smile as I discreetly exited the women's dormitories. Raven had said she needed to get something for her next class...or something, which sounded fair enough.

I didn't see her again for the rest of the week.

* * *

It's been a while. It's short but I hope it's okay. GLASS and HUSH soon. :D 

Anyways, um, thoughts?

-Rei, back...she hopes. Haha. ;


	4. Chapter 3

Sorry for the wait. We're going to raise things a bit. I intended this to be solely Robin and Raven centric but that crafty thief who likes red was burning to get in on this, so he is now, but Robin needed a rival anyway and I always disliked having him rival with the other titans, so red it is. This is basically setting up that relationship with Robin and Red and foreshadowing other such things, and the bridge, mainly to the next chapter, where we'll get more into the war aspect of things, etc. This one has a distinctly less rigid/ sober quality to it. I think Robin's been coming off a bit distant and brooding, and that's fine since he gets that way sometimes, but I realized I want him to be a little more human after all. Also: typos? Probably a couple. I'm sorry. I wanted to get this out as promised, so I only looked over it twice after finishing writing it. I'll fix them later when I get a chance! This chapter might be boring, but stick with the story maybe, and it will, with any luck, get more interesting next time. I think so anyway! So there you go, my inanely long author's note. I'm very sorry. Forgive me!

Dedicated to: Everyone who has read so far and anyone who reads this chapter. Thank you for your patience.

P.S. Other promised updates are coming, but my computer died yesterday morning like nobody's business, and then wasn't letting me upload, so... oy. You get it, yes? Sorry, sorry, sorry! (runs in circles)

* * *

_Without You_

_Chapter 3: In which you send me a message_

* * *

By the end of the week I was certain she was avoiding me. Even though we had classes together, were always paired with each other to spar, and so on, she never met my gaze. Not once. That couldn't be coincidence. 

And if it was, well...she must be psychic...or something.

And that was just stupid. Right?

Shoving the med room incident—I began thinking of it as an incident to make myself feel less awkward I'm sure—to the back of my mind, once I realized she was avoiding me, it was almost a relief. After all, dislike I could understand. Dislike was essentially the step that came right before hatred—in my head at least—and well...If Raven hated me, then I could at least say I sympathized with her...not that I hated myself. No, but someone else...there was someone else who earned that kind of feeling from me.

"How's Slade's latest hand-puppet?"

I tensed, getting a familiar itch at the back of my neck, more of a sharp, short pain really. He always seemed to elicit that reaction.

"Red," I greeted carelessly, ignoring his comment and for good measure, turning away. We were in the hall: me, standing with my back against the many lockers used to store equipment and manuals, him standing in front of me with that ever-present smirk. The occasional student passed by us in our next few moments of silence as I felt his eyes on me, appraising almost. Disturbed, as I usually became in his presence, I let my scowl deepen as I wondered how he could possibly have time to just stand there wordlessly taunting me, tempting me to push him out the convenient window right behind him.

I was on break. I don't know what he was on. I'd never bothered to ask.

"So sociable today," he remarked at last with a chuckle.

"We can't all be you," I replied stiffly. Maybe I was his Excellency's favorite, the star pupil of the Academy—well, with Raven close catching up—and yes, envied by most other military applicants. But there was that one other thing, that vital thing I lacked...I think someone once told me it was called 'people skills'...or something. Red, on the other hand, seemed to have them in spades. He wasn't any taller than me and really we could've been twins—much to my irritation—except his eyes were the oddest shade of gold-green and his hair wasn't quite as black as mine, dark brown more accurately.

That was just physical however. Mentally...persona wise...well, whatever Red lacked in everything else, he made up in his endless capacity to be a social butterfly. Credit due, he was a good fighter too. Before Raven, he was my main partner. I guess I inadvertently owed Raven for yet another thing, it seemed. Except now she was avoiding me.

And I was brought back to spacing out about that until Red chose that moment to flick my temple with his index finger and thumb, hard. I pushed him away, irritated.

"What the Hell?"

"You're losing it," he said, not the least bit fazed by my reaction. That was another thing about Red. He always got under my skin. I never got under his.

It was, as one might imagine, borderline infuriating. Without Raven my respite from him was gone, whether or not she knew it, and I cursed under my breath.

"Wish you'd stop avoiding me." I didn't realize I'd mumbled aloud until Red's smug laughter reached my ears.

"Is the prodigal warrior sulking over his lost Raven?" Red teased. His grin had a harsh edge to it that seemed to stem from his eyes that had an eternally unreadable expression in them. His tone almost sounded jealous, but that would be crazy. I couldn't begin to fathom where that kind of thing would come from. Red didn't seem to do jealous.

"Don't be stupid," I bit out. "Don't you have a class...or something?" I hinted.

"You think I actually go to class! I'm moved," he drawled and leaned against the window now, arms crossed. It occurred to me he was mirroring my posture and I uncrossed my arms, stuffing my hands in my pockets. His smirk widened slightly.

"How could you not? You'd be kicked out," I stated blankly.

"I don't come here because I need the instruction, kid." His look seemed to add more to that sentence but I wasn't a mind-reader.

Kid?

"Kid?" I voiced my incredulity...and insult. Red waved a hand in the air frivolously.

"You are a kid. I don't care what anyone else here says. You're a fledgling compared to me," Red went on. I clenched my fists at my sides but seeing him give me a look as if to say 'see? A kid!' I unclenched them.

"Then why aren't you top rank?" I challenged. I had to say something.

"Not that you would notice, oh oblivious prodigy but I'm not even on the list," Red pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. My scowl disappeared.

Not on the list? Then how...why?

"What are you doing here then?" I asked, now doubly irritated. At first, he didn't answer me. I think I muttered whatever and turned to go but Red's arm shot out in front of me, planting his hand against the lockers. My gaze went sideways asking 'What?' without actually saying so. I wasn't in the mood to deal with his...whatever it was...his problem with me, I guess. Before I knew it his face was an inch away from my ear. I had no time to react, perfect soldier, and still he caught me off guard.

But the rushed proximity was the last thing I would have been able to see coming.

Especially from my...rival, I guess? There I was with the guessing again...had to stop that, mental note.

"Just getting to know my enemies," Red whispered and as quick as he was there, he was walking in the opposite direction, whistling something unnecessarily cheery.

I shook my head to clear it.

Weird, weird, and weirder.

Red and I had been at it with each other as long as I'd been here. On my way up through the ranks, he'd just roared in one day on his motorcycle—red, mind you—and started picking fights with me. Well, it wasn't right away. It was maybe the second month he was here...and just like then, I still couldn't figure out exactly what his problem with me was, or why. At times, even though friends were out of the question for me, I'd mused that in other circumstances, we could have been comrades, but that might have been too whimsical a form of thought.

Still...his attitude...it bugged me.

What had I ever done to him? Maybe I wasn't er...social, but I tried not to be cold either.

Unlike Raven who...

I stopped in my tracks and actually took pains to hit my head dully against the wall. There I was, thinking of her...again. Was it because, like with Red, I knew so little about her? Was it something else?

A sigh escaped me. I couldn't be sure, as usual.

By the end of the next week it was driving me more or less insane.

In the morning I'd linger in the corridor to catch a glimpse of her maybe, even of her pivoting in the other direction, but she was never there. At lunch I went so far as to wander the base blindly, thinking maybe she was simply keeping to herself somewhere for extra training or the like, but I never even heard of someone seeing her...much less saw her myself. Night was the worst though. Every night for the rest of the week I barely slept and when I did sleep it was with her endlessly deep eyes staring at me, through me, into me.

I couldn't figure out where she had gone, nor why, and it was taking over my brain.

The weekend found me pacing restlessly on the edge of Lake Rena which was situated on the west side of the female quarters. A tall, old tree with wide thick branches sat about twenty feet from me, rustling in the wind and I sighed, crossing my arms.

"Where did you go?" I mumbled.

"Who are you talking to, boy wonder?"

I jumped and whirled to face two amused eyes of deep violet.

"Where have you been?" I demanded, irritated at wanting to know enough to ask, too inundated with questions to ignore it. Staring at her now, I realized she was in civilian clothes. So she had gone somewhere after all. When I looked at her eyes again they'd lost their amused spark, traded in for something dark and opaque.

"None of your business," she said coolly and turned to walk away.

I watched her begin to walk and something in me snapped.

"Wait!" I called after her. Nothing. I scowled. "Hey, wait!" I repeated and took off following. She must've heard me or sensed me or both because she started to run too, and she was fast. Very fast.

And suddenly it was a race.

For her, a race to somewhere I couldn't reach her, for me, a race to do exactly that; we couldn't help but compete with each other, it seemed.

"Would you just stop?" I shouted finally and grasped her wrist, jerking her to a stop so fast I ran into her.

"Let me go," she uttered the words with what once again reminded me could be mistaken for hate.

"No...not until you tell me where you've been!" I felt stupid. Just plain stupid. I barely knew this girl soldier and she disappears for a few days only to make me get so crazy I'm here holding her against her will?

What are you doing to me?

I hardly had time to think about it beyond that though.

"I don't have to answer to you!" she said evenly.

And so we stood there, just stood there. The silence crept around us like the enemy and I felt my hand release her, vaguely. It was as if I wasn't in control of my actions. Equally as vaguely I was aware of her hand falling limply at her side, and aware of her turning that piercing stare on me.

I didn't feel like meeting that look though. This was enough confusion.

"Why do you care anyway?" she asked, flippant. I almost laughed.

"I don't know," I said honestly and she arched a brow as if to say 'oh really?' but of course, no words came. Just that patronizing gaze that told me she knew something but wasn't about to share. It started to rain and inside I felt a wave of amusement. The rain would come at a time like this. Soon we were both soaked, neither of us looking at each other anymore, neither of us speaking, just the roll of thunder in the sky, not far off, and the immediate drops of rain.

It reminded me of an old movie, though I couldn't really be certain which one.

"Well figure it out." Her voice was sudden, breaking the otherwise natural sounds and for a moment, I felt like she was an intruder, even watching her leave, boots making that odd squish noise that wet grass often caused.

Figure it out...?

Oh...why I care.

Right.

I kicked at the ground.

Why I care?

But how could I figure it out when I wasn't sure I was ready to admit to caring at all?

The rain seemed to intensify but it was a long time before I returned to my quarters, drenched like a sewer rat and smelling about as bad. A quick hop in the showers fixed the smell, clean new uniform fixed the saturated state...and I was just running a towel over my hair when someone knocked at the door.

A frown worked its way across me.

I really wasn't in the mood for visitors. Opening the door I opened my mouth too, ready to tell whoever it was just that.

My eyes narrowed.

"Go away." I closed the door.

Knocking again.

"Red, I don't know what you want, but I'm not in the mood for it."

"How can you say that if you don't even know what 'it' is?" his voice was clearly amused. So he was in a jolly mood today? Well, great, though I couldn't say I really had a preference between that and his 'vendetta with no reason' mood in which he would simply verbally accost me until I agreed to fight with him...or something. Honestly, and I was supposed to be the kid? I rolled my eyes.

"I know." It was curt and clear and I thought, listening to the nothing, that he'd left.

Then the door opened. Hadn't I locked that? I eyed him. He held up a lock pick. I groaned and turned away, rolling on my side.

"Sleeping," was all I said. Silence again. I heard him move closer and did my best to pretend I hadn't heard a thing.

"Look kid, I don't usually do this, but just turn around and take this already, would you? Man, I hate this. I'm not some errand boy," Red's mood had shifted drastically in the span of a few seconds. Somehow, I was used to it as I turned and looked at his hand. There was an envelope in it.

"From who?"

Red scowled now and I smirked. A reaction, a reaction of displeasure. I felt like I'd just won a match.

"A bird," Red finally replied and tossed it at me, exiting quickly. I stared after him a second until the words dawned on me. I tore open the envelope.

Robin, meet me by the lake, one in the morning. I can answer you then.

-Raven

"A secret rendezvous, kid? Impressive," Red praised in a tone that suggested he was anything but. I couldn't tear my gaze from the brief message though.

"Why are you playing messenger for her? No one has ever been able to bully you into doing anything like that," I heard myself ask. Red snorted.

"Yeah well," he answered and I watched curiously as he ran a hand through his hair and looked away.

Was Red...nervous?

I stood.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked at last and his scowl returned as he stormed out of the room.

"Like I'd tell you, kid!" he yelled loud enough that anyone in my corridor could hear and I frowned.

What was that?

I got up, closed the door and returned to my bed, rubbing my temple with my free-hand. A few seconds passed and I stared at the door, half expecting Red to burst in demanding some kind of competition, insulting, me or something. When it became clear that wasn't about to happen I think I relaxed a bit. That guy...under my skin? Something like it, only worse, I glared at nothing and then, as an after thought, looked down at the message again...neat, prim handwriting, not at all loopy, not real indication of it being a guy's hand or a girl's...just like Raven.

The thought caught me off-guard, again.

How would I know what was 'like' her? Honestly. Setting it down I rolled back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling.

One in the morning?

The last thing I thought before I dozed off was that maybe I was about to learn one of Raven's secrets, but she seemed to have so many, I doubted this would make much of a difference.

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Reviews are always really appreciated, but you know that, right? 

-Yuki Rei, using her full name because school has gotten her in the habit again (well actually, she lies…her whole name is longer…)


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